A Story That Never Existed

There is a kind of person in this world who is born with no destiny for light. Their names will not be remembered, their footprints will not be left on the ground. Every step you take, you lose a little bit of the past; every breath you take, you get an inch further away from yourself. It's not that they don't want to exist, It's just that the world has never given them a place. But in the deepest night, a few people huddle together, Use each other's weak warmth to confirm that they are still alive. Later, someone stood up. He said, "Let me do it." So, he disappeared. Many years later, the wind still blew through the mountains and fields, Rain will still fall on that mountain road. No one remembers that person. Only a few names remain on a page of an old notebook, Like a spark that refuses to be extinguished in the ashes. This is a story about forgetting, It's also a story about being remembered forever.